


Holding True

by Petenshi



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Duo, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 01:52:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6354097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petenshi/pseuds/Petenshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I don’t know what made me call him.  We hadn’t spoken in five years.  Of all the numbers to dial from memory it’s funny what you do when you’re concussed.  I could have called someone from the docking yard, or Howard.  In fact, I probably should have called Howard since he’d be wondering where I was judging by the light outside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding True

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for Moments of Rapture's 2012 anniversary challenge. The theme was "Today, Tomorrow and Always".

I’ve woken up in some odd places in my lifetime but usually I know how I got there. 

It was cold.  I was propped against a wall.

And there was pain.

I managed to pull my phone out of my jacket pocket but my vision was suddenly foggy, spots appearing and obscuring the surface.  Squinting at the numbers I tried to focus long enough to poke the appropriate buttons. 

Once it started to ring I closed my eyes again groaning softly.

“Hello?”

“Heero?”  I coughed, my voice raspy and low.  “It’s Duo.”

I could hear Christmas music in the background and yet the silence on the other end of the line hung between us.

“Maxwell.”  There was another pause; the sound of a clicking noise and suddenly the music was gone.  “I’m surprised to hear from you.”

I felt my lips curl and opened my eyes long enough to smile at the phone before the pounding in my head and the blood on the floor made me close them again.  “Yeah.” 

“Well…” I could hear the discomfort in Heero’s voice.

“Sorry to be calling you, sounds like you’re in the middle of a party.”  I tried to shift position but everything exploded in burst of pain and I slumped back down, face first on the floor.  The phone clattered out of my hand.

“Duo?  Duo, what’s going on? Are you in trouble?”  Heero sounded concerned and I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, regretting it when my mouth filled with blood.  I spit and managed to nudge the phone closer toward my head.

“You could say that.”  Across the room, a man sat slumped against the door.  I recognized one of my knives sticking out of the guy’s eye.  Apparently I hadn’t gone down without a fight at least.  “I think I was jumped coming home from work.”

“You think?”  Heero’s voice turned professional.  “Are you alright?”

I thought about trying to sit up again, but things didn’t seem to be cooperating.  I gave up and laid my cheek against the floor, ignoring the spreading pool of blood under me. “I don’t know where I am, I’m pretty sure I have a concussion and I’ve been shot.”

“Status?”  Heero was moving, I could tell, the clicking noise came again and the music was back.  It faded slowly and was replaced with doors banging and the sound of an engine.

“Status?”  Didn’t I just tell him my status?  I took a moment to assess further and then quirked another smile, careful this time not to laugh.  “Let’s just say I won’t have to worry about using up my phone minutes.”

Heero swore quietly, surprising me.  “What can you tell about your location?”

I forced my eyes open and turned my head.  There was a window, with blinds drawn.  Through a broken section I could see the top of a globe.  Faintly I could hear the ringing of what sounded like a Salvation Army bell.

“Did you know?  I’m in Copenhagen, same as you.  Moved here a couple months back. Nice place by the way, lovely people.”  I coughed and spit up more blood, clutching at my stomach as if that would improve things.  “Well, aside from the nightlife.  You’d think the local police would do a better job with that.”

Laughing was definitely a bad idea, something I really needed to stop doing.  I shifted with a hiss, trying to close in on the pain, isolate it into something that would let me think properly.

“Duo.  Can you narrow your location to something more specific than an entire city?”  He sounded irritated which didn’t surprise me; this was the Heero Yuy I remembered.  Nothing but Mr. Professional, no gabbing while on duty.

“I think I’m somewhere by the old newspaper office.  I can see the globe out the window.  There’s somebody ringing a bell outside, probably one of those holiday charity deals.”

Through the phone I could hear the Preventer siren Heero had obviously turned on.  “Keep talking to me Duo.”

“Well the floor is black and white linoleum.”  I couldn’t help laughing again, then coughed out more blood.  “Shit, make that black, white and red.”

I don’t know what made me call him.  We hadn’t spoken in five years.  Of all the numbers to dial from memory it’s funny what you do when you’re concussed.  I could have called someone from the docking yard, or Howard.  In fact, I probably should have called Howard since he’d be wondering where I was judging by the light outside.

But my traitorous concussed brain had to pick out that number.  What had I hoped to accomplish?  One last heartfelt goodbye as I lay here bleeding to death?

_ Moron _ .

“Duo?”

We hadn’t even parted on good terms; it’s a wonder he didn’t hang up as soon as I spoke.  It’s a wonder he even answered the phone when he saw the number.

“You need to keep talking to me, Duo.  Can you discern anything else about your location?”  He sounded calm and collected.  All business, per usual.  Maybe that’s why my brain called him.

Groaning and swearing, I managed to roll sideways enough to get a better look around.  “High ceilings.”  I managed to make out, squinting through the black spots and fuzzy edges.  “Grey concrete brickwork.”

I was drowning in blood.  Pulling my head up, despite the throbbing and vision flickering, I glanced down.  “Christ.”  Best not to look at that more than necessary, no wonder I was spewing up blood.  Actually, I was probably better off face down; perhaps the floor could keep everything in for me. 

Ridiculous.

“Floor’s cold.  Room too.  No heating.” 

My mouth didn’t want to work anymore.  The thoughts were there, processing the room and surroundings, but the words weren’t coming anymore.

I couldn’t hear sirens outside yet.  That was fine.  It was all fine.  I’d lived hard, laughed hard and loved hard.  Couldn’t say they’d all worked out, the living and loving appeared to be in short supply these days but I could still laugh.

Why does blood have to be so black when it comes out?

Then again, perhaps not so much on the laughing either.

“God damn it Duo!  Answer me!”  Heero was swearing at me.  That was new.

“Yeah Chief?”

“Where are you shot?”  It was confusing but I thought I might be able to hear a slight double siren in the background.

“Don’t want to talk about it.”  I managed that with gritted teeth and eyes closed.  “Just wanted to say sorry.  ‘Bout you and me, so sorry.”

I could definitely hear the siren now, but I could tell it wouldn’t matter.  I think he knew it too by how quiet his voice got.  “There wasn’t a you and me, Duo.”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed.  Damn the blood and damn the drowning but damned if I wasn’t going to go out laughing.  “I know.”  I told him between gasps, “C'est la vie.”

That would have been a good place to end the call.  All dramatic like, and with dignity.  But since I couldn’t reach the buttons, I just let the black and red swallow me up whole, while Heero yelled my name. 

Which all things considered, if that were to be the last thing I heard, not a bad way to go.  Though apparently I was still hanging in there a bit, I could hear him hollering his head off and more sirens.  I could feel the cold floor under me and the sticky wetness of my clothes.

Then a noise like thunder as a door burst open.  Calvary to the rescue if there were any bits left to put back. 

“Duo!  Fuck, we need a medic here stat!  God damn you piece of shit Duo Maxwell!  You’d better not be dead.  Don’t you dare fucking have called me just to die on me.  Duo!”

I could smell him, and hear him.  Different smell than before, different shampoo but the underlying tinge of gunpowder was still there.  He still smelled like danger.  I would have smiled if I could.

* * *

 

Not dead after all, though not for lack of trying.  I found out later I’d coded twice on the way to the hospital and then once more during surgery just to make sure I was really certain about this living business.

Apparently my guts  _ had _ been hanging out.  Which is pretty much what I suspected.  Funny thing though, apparently because the room was so cold and the floor was fucking freezing, it’d saved my life.  Slowed heart rate and blood rate enough that they were able to shove things and stitch things and put me all back together good as new. 

Never would have guessed it with all that blood.

“Damn fool of a boy, getting yourself taken like that.”  Judging from the level of Howard’s bitching, he was relieved to find me awake.

I twitched my lips in a grin but the memory of the last time I laughed, kept it all inside.  They may have shoved all the bits back in but I still wasn’t confident it wouldn’t all come flying out again.

“Old man.”  I whispered, and he leaned closer looking concerned.

“You say something, Duo?”

“I’m concussed, not deaf.  Stop yelling.” 

He winced and then patted the hand that didn’t have anything sticking in it, gently.  “Good to see you, Duo.”

I smiled and then grimaced as I took stock.  Oxygen tube under my nose, IVs in my arm, and I couldn’t really feel anything from the neck down.  Hmmm, too soon to tell.

“Who’s minding the shop?”

“Relax.  I’ve got it covered.  Christof is keeping an eye on it right now, they called and said you might be waking up soon so I dashed over.”

Christof was the twelve-year-old son of the woman who ran the bookstore next door.  I groaned, “Are you out of your mind?”

Howard had the decency to look sheepish and then shrugged.  “Nobody else was available and it seemed easier just to keep the place open.  Don’t worry, I locked up all the important pieces before he even got there.”

I think he could tell I still wasn’t convinced.  “What?  It was an emergency!”

“Well it’s not anymore.  Shoo.  Go away before that delinquent breaks every single item in the shop.”

“It’s good to see you awake, Duo.”  He thumped my shoulder gently and headed toward the door.

“Howard.”  I called out, voice still low and raspy.  “How long have I been out?”

“Day and a half.” And with another grimace and wave, he left.

I faded out for a while after that, a nurse named Bertha came in.  Or perhaps it was Bernice.  Everything was still rather foggy, I think they must have upped the drugs in my IV because the next time I opened my eyes; the lighting had changed from the bright glare of day to the warm glow of dusk.

“Duo Maxwell.”

Surprised, I turned my head to look at the person standing in the door.

“Heero Yuy.”

I blinked, wondering if I was imaging things.  What the hell was he doing here?  I hadn’t seen him in…

Shit.  That’s right; in a state of concussed delirium I’d called him.  Now he’d think I’d been pining after him all these years.  And in my one moment of weakness I’d reached out for him as if he was my security blanket and I was three.

Had I ever even had a security blanket?

He was taller than when I’d last seen him.  Five years is a long time and he’d filled out. He’d always had the muscle mass but at sixteen or so he hadn’t had the broad shoulders or height that he did now.  In fact we’d both been on the scrawny side, small was a handy trait to have when piloting a Gundam.  Tight quarters and all.

The silence was awkward.  Had there ever been a time when it wasn’t or had I just been better at filling in the gaps? 

“You look better.” He made a face, which I think was meant to be a smile.

Well this was just painful.  Just kill me now and get it over with.

“Shit, man.  I must be getting soft in my old age.  I can’t believe I let someone get the drop on me.”

If I could have crawled under the bed, I would have.  And that it was Heero of all people who’d had to come bail me out made it all the more mortifying.

“You didn’t.”  He crossed over to stand next to my bed, poked at the readouts beside me and then looked at me again.  “I’ve seen the security footage from a camera across the street.  You still don’t remember?”

“No.” 

So I wasn’t entirely pathetic.  _ Oh, thank God _ . 

“There was a little boy.”  He marked the air with his hand and then flicked it upward, an oddly indulgent gesture for someone I’d always seen offer only the sparsest of words and even sparser physical language.  “He’s four.  Dark brown hair, blue eyes.”

He paused and I wondered why.  “He was wearing black shorts and a green tank top.”

Oh.

I could feel the adrenalin starting to pump and my heart rate went up.  I closed my eyes and pictured the street going home.  I’d locked up late, it was darker than usual and the streetlights were starting to come on.

_ Down one narrow side street I heard a scuffle and then a yell.  A little boy burst out, his wide blue eyes were frantic.  _

_ Heero? _

_ There was only an instant before a man ran out after him.  He grabbed the kid, and yanked his arm hard, feet leaving the ground.  His little tank top slid down one shoulder but he didn’t cry out, he just looked at me with those big blue eyes. _

_ I moved without thinking, hand coming back and punching the man in the jugular, short vicious jabs.  He choked, lost his grip on the kid and reached for me instead.  I broke his kneecap. _

_ There was a shot and I looked up in time to see another man running down the alley, gun raised.  A quick twist to break the arm, and I dropped the first guy, shoving the kid behind me. _

_ “Run!”  I yelled, “Run, damn you.” _

_ The man fired again. _

“You were meant to be dead.”  Heero informed me calmly.  “He shot you in the head.”

I reached up and touched the bandages wrapped around my temple and winced.  “Ouch.”

“Lucky for you, he was a bad shot.  You were only grazed but with all the blood he thought you were dead and dragged you up to that room we found you in.  We’re not sure on the details but it appears you started to come to so he shot you again.”

“He’s dead.”  I looked at Heero for confirmation and he nodded.

“Even concussed and barely lucid you are not someone to be taken lightly.”

No, I hadn’t thought so, which is why I’d been confused as to how I wound up in the situation in the first place.  I’d chalk that one up to mitigating circumstances..

“Do you always keep knives hidden on you?”

I shrugged and then winced when unshiftable things shifted.

“The kid?”

Heero nodded.  “Kidnap victim.  Taken from the playground when the nanny had her back turned.”

“He make it home?”

“Yes.”

We looked at each other for a moment, the silence growing longer.  I finally chickened out and looked away first.  He didn’t need to say it, and I certainly wasn’t going to.  He knew all those years ago that I liked him and he’d left anyway.  It was slightly mortifying for him to catch me going all action commando on some guy just because a kid looked kind of like him.

I wasn’t still carrying a torch for Heero Fucking Yuy.

_ Was I? _

“You missed our anniversary by the way.  Though it was spent in a very fitting manner.”

I blinked.  “I’m sorry, say that again?”

“Our anniversary.  Three days ago marked the day you broke me out of that Federation hospital.  And while I do appreciate the phone call I hope in the future we commemorate the day with a little less blood.”

“Heero, we don’t have an anniversary.”  I was reminded of the last few moments of our phone call and had to look away.  He was too real, too vivid and too close for me to wrap my head around.

“I know.”  He spoke softly, “Damn shame, don’t you think?”

I turned my head sharply to look at him and then groaned, closing my eyes against the nausea that followed the movement.

“Hey, stop that.”  A glass of water nudged my lips and I sipped slowly, letting everything settle before opening my eyes again.

He was so very close.  Piercing blue eyes, hair still sticking every which way.

“You are such a bastard.”

“Says the man who called me when he was  _ dying _ .”  His tone had started out lighthearted but by the end he sounded pissed.

“God damn it, Duo.  I don’t hear from you in five years and then that’s the phone call I get?  ‘Hi Heero, I know it’s been awhile, sorry I can’t chat long, I’m busy dying.’  You fucking selfish asshole!”

He was mad all right.  His fists were clenched and I could see his jaw lock.  And those stupid blue eyes of his burned into mine.

“I don’t remember you swearing so much before.”

He took a step back and then dropped in the chair by my bed, head in his hands. 

I figured he’d leave at that.  He’d done his duty, time to be on his merry way.  No reason to stick around.  Instead he spoke, not looking at me, fingers clenched in frustration.  “I’ve thought about you a lot these past years.” 

What the fuck do you say to that?  Now I was starting to get pissed.

“I don’t see why you would, you made it pretty clear you just wanted me to leave you alone.”

“I thought that was the best option, I wanted a little breathing room from everything.  The war, the fighting, people…” He paused, fingers digging in deeper, still refusing to look at me.  “I thought if I ran away from it all, from all of you, I’d have a better chance of figuring out myself.”

“Well I can see that worked out real well for you.”

He shrugged and hunched in on himself.  If I was feeling more charitable I might start to feel sorry for him. 

Not a chance. 

“I don’t get why you’re so pissed,” I finally told him, “You’re the one who said he needed time and space.” 

“Not five years!”

“You could have called me.”

“You could have called  _ me _ !”

“Yeah maybe, except for the part where you told me to  _ piss of and leave you alone, _ you jack ass!”

I stared at the foot of the bed, frustrating draining out until I just felt sad and tired.   I remembered the day I last saw him, that stupid jean jacket and those long legs walk farther away until he disappeared in the crowd and I couldn't’ follow him anymore. 

Left behind again.

Hurt feelings, confused feelings.  Too young and fragile, really.  The war ended and we were all giddy off the high of it.  Then after things calmed down we sort of floated, looking for places to go.  Wufei went off to do something with Sally Po, Trowa was never forthcoming with anything personal but I gathered he had a place somewhere.  Quatre had his family.  Of the four, Quatre stayed in touch; we talked sometimes, vid calls here and there.  We’d had some downtime together during the war so we did have things to actually talk about other than…well let’s just say conversations with the rest had seemed pointless. 

Except for Heero. I’d wanted to get to know Heero better, to see him relax.  I’d looked forward to watching him unwind and hoped to hang out more when we’d found places.  Instead he’d brushed my offers off, saying he needed to get out.

We’d argued.  I may or may not have begged in as manfully a way as possible.  He left anyway.

So.

I poked at the buried hurt, pulled it out and compared it to the person sitting in the chair next to me.  Pondered the past five years.  Still pissed but maybe I could forgive.

“Hey.”  I called out, not able to reach over and touch him.  “You figure yourself out?  Discover the real Heero Yuy?”

He finally looked up then, head cocked to one side, eyes wary.  “I suppose I did.”

“So…” I twitched the blankets covering my legs and then fidgeted with the IV taped to my hand.

“So…?”  There was that raised eyebrow, so near and dear to my traitorous little heart.

“So since I’m apparently not going to die after all, you want to be friends?”

I was pleased when he threw back his head and laughed.  “Well since you’ve decided not to die and all, why the hell not?” 

I smiled back.  “Good.”

* * *

They discharged me two days later.  Doctors scratched their heads and muttered over my incredible progress.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t ready to be fighting any kidnappers or lifting anything heavier than a bag of flour, really, but once I was stitched up and no longer bleeding everywhere, things pretty much took care of themselves.

Heightened fine motor control, strength and accelerated healing all products of being a Gundam pilot.  Thank you, Doctor G.  Even if the damn man had most likely stunted my growth.

Like Heero, I too had spent the past five years filling out and up.  I would never be a basketball star, I’d topped out at 5’11 and I figured if I wasn’t getting any taller by now than I wasn’t going to get any taller in the future.

I had finished signing the paperwork for my release and then turned to the plastic bag holding my phone, wallet and keys.  The phone was looking a little worse for wear, blood had crusted on the buttons and there was a thumbprint in the middle of the screen.  Sighing, I tried to rub it off as much as possible with a little spit and the corner of my shirt.

I couldn't decide if I wanted to call Howard for a lift or get a cab.  If I called Howard, he’d have to find someone to mind the shop again.  I’d just resigned myself to looking up the number of a cab company when there was a knock on the doorframe and Heero walked in.  He was dressed in the Preventer’s uniform and glancing at the time on my phone, I realized he must have just gotten off from work.

“Hey!”  I grinned and gestured at my dressed self, proudly.  “I am so blowing this joint.”

“So I heard.  You want a ride home?”  He shoved his hands in his back pockets, for a moment appearing unsure.  “Though you probably made other plans…” He trailed off and I decided to rescue him.

“That’d be great, I was just about to call a cab.”

I stood up, bracing myself on the bed to test things and then straightened.  “This is perfect actually, you can guard the hall while I sneak out the back.  There is no way in hell I’m riding out of here in a wheelchair.”

He nodded and stepped out, and I waited for the all clear.  I figured he’d understand.

He waved me through and I clasped his shoulder for a second on my way out to the stairs.  “Thanks.”

He nodded and followed me out.  “It’s four flights, you good?”

“Well I won’t be sprinting them but, yeah.  What kind of car do you drive?”  I used the handrail but managed the stairs fine enough, wincing only occasionally when the steps down pulled on stitches.

“SUV.  Grey.”

Keeping most of my attention on the descent, I flicked a look at him.  Not joking.  “Serious?  That’s so…” I tried to wrap my mind around Heero in one of those.  “That’s so…boring!”

“It gets good gas mileage.” 

This time I did stop and turn to look at him.  His lips twitched.

“It does have bullet proof glass and reinforced siding with a compartment in the undercarriage for weapons and gear.”

This time he did smile and nudged me to keep walking forward.  “Standard Preventer issue, of course.”

“Of course.”  I was muttering.  “Soccer dad with a secret double life.”

He shook his head, “No, just a not-so-secret solo life.”

“So no wife, and two point five kids?” 

He gave me a strange look.  “How can you have point five of a child?”

I shrugged, “It’s a saying.  No kids then, girlfriend?”

A look crossed his face, a little hesitant and then he shook it off.  “No, nothing serious.  What about you?”

He was hiding something.  I was the master at shifting attention from touchy subjects to other more benign ones.  I stopped my trek down the stairs again to turn and look at him. 

“We are never going to get to the parking lot if you keep stopping,” He informed me, but paused as well.

“Whatever, I’m an invalid.  I’m suppose to be taking it easy.”  I held up my hand to forestall any comments on his part.  “When I called, it sounded like you were at a party.  Look, I appreciate you coming to help me and wanting to rekindle our epic bromance but I don’t want to be taking you away from other things.  If you’ve got a girlfriend or workmates or somewhere else to be, than don’t feel obligated to be here.”

His eyes narrowed and I could tell I’d touched a nerve.  He moved forward, grabbing me and shoving me not so gently against the wall.

“Ouch,” I griped, “Invalid here, remember?”

“Shut up Duo.”  And I got a slight shake for my trouble.  “I am not here out of some sort of pity run.  I'm here because I want to be.  And there is no girlfriend, no workmates,” He sneered there which caused me to wonder idly what it was like to work with him.  Tough act to follow, I’m sure.

“I’m here because you called me after five years of nothing, and I walk in to you lying in a pool of blood, cold as ice.  So if anybody owes anybody anything, it’s you.” 

“You know damn well why I called you.”  I told him, pissed and unable to stop from lashing out.  “It’s not like it was intentional.  A man shouldn’t be held accountable for his actions while concussed.”

He dropped me and stepped back, arms thrown open wide.  “Okay Duo, I get it.  I hear you loud and clear.  I don’t need this shit, you want me to leave, I’ll leave.”

“Sure.  Fine!”  I was shaking, but I gathered up my hurt and fury and let it rip.  “Leave! That’s what you’re the best at, right?  So walk away.  I never asked for your help, you didn’t even know I was in the same city.  I don’t need anything from you.”

I closed my eyes against him, against a friendship I’d so desperately wanted.  Fuck Heero Yuy, anyway.

Hands grabbed my shoulders more gently this time and I opened my eyes when he dropped his forehead to rest it gently against mine, “How is it you can rattle me up so damn bad?”

I slowly let out my breath, muscles relaxing under his grip.  “Is that what this is?  Because with all the yelling and shoving I was beginning to think you were pissed at me.”

He sighed and pulled back and I was startled when he suddenly looked sad.  “Hell yeah, I’m pissed.  You scared the shit out of me and now you’re being a pain in the ass.”

I opened my mouth but he put a hand over it.  I was tempted to stick out my tongue but one look at his face and I decided to wait it out. 

“I’m only going to say this once.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry for being young and fucking up the first time.  I’m still a shitty bet, Duo.  I sleep with a gun under my pillow and murder people in my sleep.  And I was making due, getting by and then you called me.  Suddenly I’m not alone and there’s this other person out there who I realize gets it.  Gets where I’m coming from.”

He dropped his hand from my mouth and gave me another shake, but more gently this time.  “And then you fucking have the nerve to nearly die.  So now that I’ve found you again, you’re stuck with me.”  And with that, he pulled me away from the wall and shoved me gently to get me walking again.  “So stop second guessing and move.”

“I don’t like you very much, right now.”  I told him.

“Good, I don’t like you very much right now either.”  He informed me back.

The rest of the trip down the stairs was spent in silence.  The sun felt good once we stepped out into the parking lot and I basked in it for a moment while Heero unlocked his car and shoved stuff out of the passenger seat.

Fancy that, Heero had become the sort of person to have junk in his car.  Granted it was electronic pads, a pair of gym shoes and a pile of energy bars but still.  Clutter!

“So where to?”  Heero pulled on a pair of sunglasses and turned to look at me. 

I winced at the desperate looking individual staring back in the reflection. My hair was a mess, there was still blood crusted in my bangs and I looked pale and grim.

“Baltikavej in the Watershed District.  God, I need a shower.”

I had thought about having him just drop me off at the shop.  Despite Howard’s assurances, I wouldn’t feel completely relaxed until I’d seen everything was fine, myself.  However, one look at my reflection and I changed my mind.  A shower and change of clothes would be needed before I was fit for public.

* * *

 

I didn’t invite him in.  I had a small place on the docks, mostly where I kept clothes, showered and ate quick meals.  I spent so much time at the shop, it was really more my home than anything.  I’d been there long enough to become a regular fixture with the other shop owners on the street.  Though, none of them knew what I had been.

They all thought I was Howard’s nephew and that I looked after the shop for him.  It was easier that way.  One of many small lies I’d had to adjust to after the war.  Oh, the arrogance of youth.   _ I may run and hide, but I never tell a lie. _

Apparently you can only always tell the truth if you’re willing to run away afterward.  If you wanted to stick around, the truth became a little…difficult. 

It didn’t help that there had been a wanted poster with my picture on it.  Fortunately it hadn’t been a full headshot.  And I cut my hair after the war.

Well. 

_ Cut _ might be a slight understatement.

I’d buzzed it all off one night in a fit of fury not too long after Heero bolted.  I’d felt lost and empty.  It’s odd when your life suddenly has no purpose.  It took nearly a year before I stopped trying to brush a braid out of the way when I sat down or ate.

I admit it was a low point in my life. I’d been holding on to that braid for so long, a testament to my love and memory of Sister Helen. It was my guiding beacon in a grand plan of vengeance.  And then one day I woke up and realized there was so much blood and hate staining my hands; I doubt she’d want anything to do with me.  I’d become something she would never have recognized or condoned.

My hair was still short, though no longer buzzed, and I worked in shampoo roughly, ignoring the pain as clumped hair was yanked.  Eventually I managed to get all the blood out.  I was tired and sleeping was beginning to sound a whole lot more inviting than hobnobbing with the neighborhood shopkeepers.

Howard had told them I’d been mugged.  He’d left the stomach gunshot out; I was too mobile to explain that away easily.

After I was cleaned up, I scrounged around in the kitchen looking for something to eat.  The milk hadn’t gone off yet at least.  I wondered idly if Heero ever sat around in his boxers eating cereal.  My head still ached slightly from the scrubbing I gave it, but my stomach wound didn’t hurt too badly. The scar would be interesting, good thing I didn’t make a point to go around without a shirt in public.  I may have become uncomfortably accustomed to the various small lies I’d told in the past few years, but the size of a lie needed to cover up the numerous scars marking my body was a little too much for me.  Knife scars, burn scars – some innocuous, others less so –, a scattering of white splotches marking the time I skidded a bike loaded with explosives into a convoy.  The whip marks on my back from that time on the lunar base.

Another Heero rescue, that one. 

This was my first gunshot, oddly enough.  So much for the safety of peace times.

I bet Heero had a ton of scars too.  He’d blown himself up, after all, on top of everything else.  Not to mention that time I’d shot him.  I wondered if he too, never went around shirtless.  Which of course, led to the next thought of Heero Yuy shirtless.

Irritated, I tossed my bowl in the sink and made myself go to bed, thinking most decidedly  _ not _ about Heero Yuy.  And whether or not I should call him.  Or if he’d call me.

* * *

 

A week later he showed up at the shop.

I was in the back, ear buds in and music blasting while I soldered a piece I was working on.  It was a frog standing up, a cane in one hand, glass raised in a toast, in the other.  He was only two and a half feet tall but the fingers were being a bitch and didn’t want to cooperate.  I was tempted to knock the whole arm off and dump it back in the forge to resculpt but decide to give the blowtorch one more try.

By carefully rotating the flame I was able to reheat the fingers to where they were malleable enough for me to manipulate with my tongs and pliers.

I loved doing this kind of work, my focus narrowed to just what I could see out of the window of the welding helmet, the arc of the flame and the glow of the metal.  When the fingers were soft enough, I put the torch down and with the welding helmet shoved up on my head, carefully pulled each finger straight so I could recurve them around the stem of the metal cocktail glass.

It was a huge pain in the ass and I was soaked with sweat by the time I stepped back and deemed the hand to be acceptable.

Howard poked his head through the door and I yanked my earbuds out, giving him the all clear.  The door had a dark tinted glass window, similar to what was in my helmet, so that someone on the other side could tell when I was working and not walk in.  Still Howard tended to check before coming back.  I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and drank half of it in one go before looking up again to see what it was he actually wanted.

Heero was standing in the doorway a bemused expression on his face.  I glanced down at myself and winced.  Pulling the helmet off from where it sat perched on my head, I tossed it on the counter and raised my bottle in greeting.  “Thirsty?”

He shook his head and came further into the room, looking at me intently.

“You seem to have a habit of catching me at my…” I gestured down and then winced, “most unkempt?”

“Unkempt was not the word that came to mind.”  He swallowed, “Actually maybe I do need that water.”

I handed the bottle over and watched him drink.  “Well I suppose sweat is better than blood.”

He shuddered and handed the bottle back.  “Don’t remind me.  That’s an image I’d like to never revisit.” 

“Hmm…me too actually.”  I walked away and started wrapping up the blowtorch, careful to make sure it had cooled down.

“You don’t have to stop,” he protested, gesturing at the frog propped up in its stand. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“Nah, I was about tapped out anyway.  I’ve been working on this guy for a couple hours now and I’m ready for a break.”  I grinned at him and swiped a towel over my face and arms before putting the rest of the equipment away.  “So what brings you to my humble shop, Heero Yuy?”

“I tried you at home first but you weren’t there…this address was listed in your file.”

“File?”

He looked embarrassed and fidgeted for a second, picking up a crescent wrench off the bench and fiddling with it before answering.  “I may have used work privileges to gain access to your hospital file.”

I laughed and relaxed.  If Heero was bending the rules to track me down then he must be serious about this friendship business.

“I’ll give you a pass this time.  Just…” I looked around, feeling guilty and then shrugged.  It was what it was.  “If you visit here, either come in the back or leave the uniform at home.”

He looked confused so I plowed on.  “It’s just, neighbors talk, you know?  And I’m keeping a low profile here…very low.”

He raised an eyebrow and I shook my head, “Like non-existent.  And Preventers are definitely not part of Duo McIntire, nephew of Howard McIntire’s, image.”

I glanced around the room and then back at Heero, wondering if I could make him understand.  “I get to have all this because nobody knows about me or my past.  And I kind of like all this.  It’s relaxing.”

He didn’t look happy and I wondered if it was going to be an issue.  “So when do you get to be Duo Maxwell?”

“Hmmm…right this very instant?”  I shrugged and took another drink.  “I make it work, it’s fine.”

“What happens if Heero Yuy, Gundam bad-boy and Preventer extraordinaire, wants to have a relationship with Duo…whoever?”

I swallowed but refused to look away.  “Awfully sure of yourself there, hot shot.”

He smirked,  “About what?  My notoriety or having a relationship with you?”

“All of the above.  Going back to your original question though, I’m not sure.”

I felt bad and stepped over to the bench, putting the last of the tools away.  One minute a guy is living his peaceful life, going about his day-to-day business and suddenly it’s all tossed around.  There had been a time when I would have happily thrown everything away to go gallivanting off with Heero.

Now days, I generally turned off the news feeds before I could get too worked up.  I’d  _ settled _ .

Heero moved closer, grabbing the sleeves of my coveralls where I had them tied around my waist and tugged me in, turning me.  I didn’t breath when he pulled my shirt up and inspected the nearly healed wound.

“On Christmas, when you called, I was at a party.  I was on a date.”

He shook his head sharply as if to cut me off before I could say anything.  “No, let me finish.  It was a blind date and it was  _ horrible _ .”

I was struggling to wrap my mind around Heero dating, let along going on blind dates and almost missed the next bomb he dropped.

“And so when my phone rang and it was you, I figured something must finally be going my way that night.  And then you sounded so …off, and you were hurt and I could barely think and then it looked like I was going to lose you again…” He stuttered to a halt.

I muttered, “Sorry.” But he didn’t seem to hear, just reached up and ran his hand over my head.  “I like your hair, by the way.  Though I do miss the braid.”

He let me go and turned away then and started pacing, shoulders hunched.  “I may or may not have broken several things when I got home that night.”

Confused, I took a step forward and stopped.  “Because of my hair?”

He laughed, it sounded a little on edge and this time I reached forward to grab his arm.

“No you idiot.  It had nothing to do with your hair and everything to do with your heart stopping under my hands.”

I shuddered.  “Yeah, that was bad.  Heero, sit.”  I pulled him over to a stool and forced him to sit on it.  “You’re making me crazy with your pacing.”

“Sorry.”  He wouldn’t let me step away, hauling me close so I was practically standing between his legs.

“You sure are a touchy feely guy, these days.” I muttered. 

He just made a humming sound of pleasure and I admit, I couldn’t help but enjoy the heat of his hand on my arm and stomach.  We stayed like that for several minutes until a noise from out front caused him to look up and then slowly ease away.

“I nearly forgot why I came here in the first place.”

I laughed weakly, wondering if  _ I _ needed a stool.  All this warm fuzzy was starting to get to me.  “That’s right, Duo Maxwell, King of Distraction.”

“Which you are doing an excellent job, by the way.  As I was saying, I came here initially because there is a New Year’s party I’ve been invited to and I wondered if you’d come.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?”  Just to clarify and make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

“Yes.”

He was tense again, I could tell.  It was clear he didn’t get the chance to relax like he had a minute ago very often.  The way he held himself, his face expression closed off, perfect posture, all said he was an indomitable force that couldn’t be hurt.

I missed the softer, touchy feely Heero and I’d only met him thirty-seconds ago.

“What if I say no?”

That hurt him, I could see it.  I’d always been pretty good at reading him.  He shrugged casually.  “I’ll be terribly bored and tempted to shoot someone in the foot.” 

“Do I have to wear a suit and tie?”  I made sure he saw my grin and I could feel him relax.

“Yes.”

“Do I have to be polite and make small talk to stupid people?”

“No.  In fact, be as rude as possible, maybe I’ll stop being invited to these things then.”

He smiled, a proper smile that made his eyes light up and I found myself smiling in return.  This was a new looser Heero than I’d known before.  And while I might grieve for all the time lost, I did like the end result.

“Alright, I’ll do it.  But only because you obviously need to be rescued.”

“Definitely, I definitely need to be rescued.”  He leaned back on his stool, looking pleased and I resisted the urge to lean in and kiss him just to see what would happen.  Something must have come through in my expression though because he leaned forward again, into my space and nudged me.

“So. Antiques, Duo?  Really?”

“Import/Export, actually.  Antiques fit the demographic of the neighborhood better so I went with that.”  I grinned and pretended to doff a top hat.  “I can even use a pretentious accent when necessary.”

He grinned back and shook his head.  “Not dressed like that.”

“Well, like I said- you have a habit of finding me not at my best.”  I turned away and picked up the piece I’d been working on, grinning over the top of its head.

He started to say something and stopped.  Waved his hand around instead, “Where does a machine shop fit into an antique – excuse me, import/export business?”

“Ah well, we sell some other stuff too.  I make some things, like this guy.”  I gave the frog a friendly pat despite all the grief he’d given me earlier.   “He’s going out front now, in fact.  Then I’m calling it a day.”

He stood up, hands shoved in his pockets and walked beside me as I kicked open the door leading out to the front of the shop.  “And then you’ll come save me from a truly terrible party.”

He didn’t phrase it as a question but I could see the hesitance in his face and reached my free hand around to gently smack him on the back of the head.  “Now who’s second guessing? Heero, I’ll be there.”

Howard wasn’t in the shop alone when we came through.  Sven, the watchmaker from two doors down was inspecting a setting we’d come across and acquired with him in mind.  I handed the frog off to Howard, who took it looking rather nonplussed and then I turned to Heero.

Time to make up my mind.  I could either jump in with both feet or let it slip away.  He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow, questioning, he was in his uniform and I’d brought him out front.

A green tank top and black shorts, bright blue eyes so trusting.  The smell of gunpowder and the feeling of a warm hand on my stomach.

I grinned then; a true Duo Maxwell grin and grabbing Heero by his tie; pulled him in until our lips were just a breath apart.  “Is this your answer then?” He whispered, and I nodded.  “Screw low profile.”  I kissed him then, the full length of his body against mine. 

I think Sven whistled and Howard might have muttered something about it being ‘damn time already’ but really all I noticed then was the feel of Heero under my hands and lips.

It was a great kiss. 

* * *

 

“You should quit.”

I hated hospitals.  Heero knew I hated hospitals and yet here we were, in a hospital.  Correction, Heero was in the hospital because he’d been injured while chasing some drug dealer.

“You were blown up, Heero!  By some jackass and his meth lab!” 

“Duo, I’m fine.  Would you stop pacing and come over here so you can see for yourself?”  Heero tried to sit up and was foiled by the IV going into his hand.  He scowled at it and went to pull it out and I darted over, grabbing his hand.

“Stop that.  I get it.  Gundam bad-boy and Preventer extraordinaire.  You’re okay.”

He was really, for the most part.  Some burns and a cracked rib.  It was just the exploding part I was having a hard time with.

“Happy Anniversary, by the way. Most people give flowers. You?  You scared the shit out of me.  I thought you said we were going to stop making a habit of this?”

He laughed then, “There are flowers, look.”  He pointed to the arrangement sent by his division secretary and smirked.  “You don’t get to be all high and mighty Mr. Coded Three Times.  Pay backs, a bitch, huh?” 

I failed to see the humor and he smiled gently to take the sting out but I still wanted to punch him in the face.

“Duo, _I’m_ _fine_.”

“We saw it, you know.”

“Saw what?”  He tugged my arm and I finally caved enough to sit down next time, letting him trace patterns in my hand.

“I was down at the bakery getting lunch and Charles had the news on.  We watched the chase, at first I was so chuffed to see you going after that guy and then he was running out and just as you got to the door everything exploded.”

He nodded, seeming to miss the point and I reached up to yank his hair,  _ hard _ .  “You have got to stop getting yourself blown up.”

“Ow!”  He grabbed my hand and pulled it back down, holding it tight so I couldn’t reach up and yank again.  “Okay, okay I get it.  And because I went and got myself blown up, in an entirely unrelated and unintentional way to the first time, I might add, you want me to quit my job?”

I nodded, knowing I was being a jerk.

“And do what, exactly?”

“Well…you could get into the import/export business.  With me.  We could be that cute little old gay couple who run the antique shop down the street.”

He shook his head. “We’re not exactly old, Duo.” 

“I’m planning for the future.”  I leaned down and kissed him, letting my hands wander but careful to mind the bandaged parts. “I expect us to live to be very old men.  That is unless you keep getting yourself blown up.”

“I think I’m going to need more convincing.”  He informed me, and I finally laughed.  “Charles promises to make you a chocolate croissant for every day you come home safe and uninjured.”

“Do paper cuts count?”

I traced a scar line running across Heero’s collarbone.  “Depends on when and where it happened.”

There were more scars, hidden by the hospital gown.  Hidden by the clothes he wore every day.  We were a matched set of mismatched markings.  I saw them at night, when we lay in bed together and in the shower where he always carefully washed the one on my stomach.

“Do I have to go to boring parties where I’m forced to make polite conversation with stupid people?”

“Nope.”

“Do I have to wear a suit and tie?”

I grinned and shook my head.  “No.”

“Long trips away from home?”

I leaned down and kissed him again.  He smelled faintly of soap, a lot like hospital and just a hint of gunpowder.  “Only if you want to, and never alone.”

“Alright then.  I’m convinced.  I’ll quit.”

I sat back, surprised.  “That easy?”

“Well,” He informed me rather smugly, “The chocolate croissants made a very convincing argument.”


End file.
